


tell me you love me (more than hate me all the time)

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e06 Iron Sisters, M/M, Missing Scene, POV Raphael Santiago, Post-Break Up, he hurts himself by hurting simon in a round about way, hop back onto the pain train, playing hard to get with a hefty side of pain, raphael is a sass queen, raphael is suffering and simon doesn't deserve him, revenge through looking fine af and making them want it bad, the reason behind raphael's leather pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9789053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: He would be so damn clever that Simon's mouth would water to touch and he would feel for one heart rending minute what Raphael was battling on the inside.He would take note of the familiar black leather pants, would close his eyes against the hunger - starving, he said. Losing control. Oh but he was going to.





	

 

* * *

 

 _Let's raise a glass or two_ _to all the things I've lost on you_  
_tell me are they lost on you?_  
_just that you could cut me loose_  
_after everything I've lost on you_

([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn3wJ1_1Zsg))

* * *

 

As a fledgling, Raphael feared the sun with it's angelic rays and lethal beauty. Even as he craved it. He was Icarus with wings of wax, dreaming of a death worthy of Van Gogh's brush. After all, what was life without living color? Death had stolen the warmth from his bones decades ago and held it captive. Everyday is an endless Winter when you're a vampire and he quickly began to hate the moon. He'd craved the first kiss of dawn as the world opened it's sleepy eyes. 

 

As New York's rising clan leader, he feared soft brown eyes like caramel and teeth that thirst for blood. Simon Lewis seeped into every aspect of his life until he willingly went to great lengths to keep the fledgling around. The clan knew not to question his actions but he didn't miss the shifty eyes, the hushed voices. Raphael was unreasonable and desperate when it came to Simon. Every instinct screamed protect, keep, protect, _keep.  Dios_  he'd pushed too hard, too soon, gave his heart away without a second thought. 

+

The first time they kissed, Simon bolted for two days without another word. On the third day he'd quietly slipped into the hotel sometime after sundown and stood outside Raphael's bedroom door pacing something awful until Raphael put him out of his misery. The minute the door swung open, Simon dipped his head and soft lips gently met his own in a kiss. From that point on, he poured every ounce of himself in Simon Lewis and set fire to walls he'd erected decades ago. 

False security, they call it. Oh but he should've known. 

* * *

 

He told himself he could cut Simon loose and sever every tie. 

He mentally erased every memory involving the two of them though he couldn't bring himself to allow Elliot to wipe the boy from his mind. He'd then shredded the blanket they'd shared the morning before Simon's betrayal with his nails.

He locked himself in their room for three days with Lily coming and going to ensure he fed because  _He wouldn't want you dead, Rafe._ What he didn't say was this:  _Then why did he kill me?_

He set fire to Simon's favorite jacket, Raphael's own charcoal button up that made Simon bite his lip, his collection of designer t-shirts, the atrocious Bladerunner shirt he insisted on sleeping in - lost to the flames. 

He ordered the others to not allow Simon within 20' of the hotel but by no means were they allowed to harm him. 

He refused to so much as utter the fledgling's name and the one time Stan had used it in passing Raphael had turned on his heel and pushed him against the wall, fangs bared. It hadn't happened since. It was pathetic how easily he showed his cards, the grief he carried like an unlucky charm he couldn't rid himself of.

He tried and failed, finding himself trailing the boy he'd fallen helplessly in love with and clenching his jaw as he slammed him against any available hard surface. Want and need made his eyes skim over the hollow of Simon's neck, the chest he'd fallen asleep with his head against too many mornings. The more he craved, the angrier he got. 

 

 _Dios._ How do you forget? He had no use for the smell of Simon's skin when he woke, how his bedhead was ridiculously adorable, the type of blood he preferred, the face he made when he grabbed the two star bag by mistake. But they were there like a disease eating him up inside. 

 

He found himself wishing for the dawn. 

* * *

 

Three days after cutting himself off cold turkey, Simon called and Raphael knew before the fledgling asked that he would come. If Simon called, he would come. 

Simon was starving, a gnawing hunger that found him drinking from a rodent and wasn't that funny? To be needed, the cards in his hand for once. All the things I lost in you, Raphael thought. I lost me in  _us_ when all I ever wanted was  _you._ And now you need something but not me, why would you ever need me? 

 

"I'll be there at sunset," he'd promised. 

"Thank you, I just...I don't know how to..." Simon had trailed off, knowing nothing he could ever do would be enough. 

 

Miss me, Raphael thought. And just like that, a plan fell together seamlessly, a sort of revenge. A game of cat and mouse, hard to get. 

* * *

 

He tried on three different shirts, four jackets, six pairs of pants and scowled at himself in the mirror for caring. Just as he was about to call in Lily for reinforcements, his fingers landed on black leather. He plucked the pants from a velvet hanger and smirked at his own genius. The last time he'd worn them was less than four hours before the betrayal. Simon had been mindlessly babbling as he sat in the eating area, awaiting a visit from the shadowhunter. Raphael had curved a hand over his lower thigh in an unspoken promise of what was to come later and, as he'd hoped, she noticed. He'd slowly removed his hand just as she entered wearing _leather pants_.

Hindsight.

They'd been neglected since, shoved to the back of the wardrobe. 

 

He slid into them, pairing them with a midnight black button up and matching jacket. Next, he took his time applying product to his hair and for the finishing touch, a spritz of cologne. He was admiring his reflection in the main room's mirror when Lily passed and circled back.

 

She whistled, giving him the once over. It wasn't unusual for him to wear a suit but he'd been putting more effort into his appearance since tagging Simon, shameless. Normally he was out the door before anyone took notice but tonight he lingered with a touch of nerves. 

"Who's the lucky boy?" 

Raphael nearly flinched at the implication. "I'm going out." 

Something in her face changed, a subtle shift of realization. "Obviously. Where to?"

He clenched his jaw,  _"Out."_

Her brows rose, taken aback. "You're missing something."

It took him half a second to realize she meant an item, not a person, a body with a name, not a ghost. He cocked his head to the inside, inquiring. 

"Too much black, you look like you're going to a funeral. Add a kerchief at least. Stay there."

She ventured to his room, returning with a silk patterned kerchief and neatly folded it into his breast pocket. "Perfect. He won't know what hit him." As swiftly as the words came out, she caught herself. 

He couldn't bare the regret in her eyes, the truth neither of them would draw attention to. Rather than meet them, he turned back to his reflection, determined to put on a brave face. He would be so damn clever that Simon's mouth would water to touch and he would feel for one heart rending minute what Raphael was battling on the inside. He would take note of the pants, would close his eyes against the hunger - starving, he said. Losing control. Oh but he was going to.

_"Si."_

Lily made her excuses, stopping to gently kiss him on the cheek and blessedly turned a blind eye to the barrage of blood bags he tossed into a satchel seconds later. 

* * *

 

When he left the Lewis home he was filled with regret, longing and the tiniest hint of victory. Simon had been hostile and demanding though his own body gave him away. He'd closed his eyes when Raphael grasped his arm entirely too gentle through a long sleeved shirt and God help him, Raphael turned at the bedroom door frame when he spoke. The doorknob made red marks in the palm of his hand from clenching around it. Would there ever be a time where he could hear Simon's voice and not instinctively turn toward it? Simon Lewis is a ruin and the best at breaking Raphael every single time by merely existing. Walking away from him was the hardest part especially when Simon's face was a snapshot from better days- from teasing kisses and Simon falling apart under his touch after a heated argument. The younger vampire was the picture of confusion and  _want._

 

Consequences, Raphael had said. If Simon changed his mind and wanted to come home he would have to pay his dues. Not groveling per say but an apology and proof that if he chose to return he was in it for the long haul. Eternity. Unfortunately it seemed as if the fledgling couldn't read between the lines, some things never change. 

* * *

 

Less than five minutes later, his hand brushed Simon's as he retrieved his satchel from the shrubs. Simon opened his mouth in surprise, the beginnings of a stammering speech on his tongue. Shoulders squared and back straight, Raphael walked away without turning back.

 

(Miss me)

 

The victory tasted bittersweet. 


End file.
